Remi said, “We also think he might have something to do with lazarets—”
Abruptly Giuseppe turned around and shuffled away. He stopped in the aisle, then stared at each wall in turn. His index finger tapped the air before him in the manner of a slow-motion conductor.
“He’s cataloging books in his head,” Remi whispered.
“Quiet, please,” Giuseppe barked.
After two minutes Giuseppe went to the right-hand wall and pushed the ladder to the far end. He climbed up, plucked a book off the shelf, paged through it, then put it back and climbed back down.
Five more
times he repeated the process, staring at the walls, conducting the air, and mounting the ladder before climbing back down and shuffling back to them.
“The man you’re looking for is named Pietro Tradonico, the Doge of Venice from 836 to 864. Chronologically he was the eleventh Doge, but by tradition he is considered the thirteenth. Tradonico’s followers fled to the island of Poveglia after he was assassinated. They had some huts near the island’s northeastern corner.”
With that, Giuseppe turned and started shuffling away.
“One more question,” Sam called.
Giuseppe turned, said nothing.
“Is Tradonico buried there?” asked Sam.
“Some think so, some not. His followers claimed the body after his assassination, but no one knows where it was taken.”
Giuseppe turned again and doddered away.
Remi called, “Thank you.”
Giuseppe didn’t reply.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Maria asked a few minutes later when they came out. After they’d pushed the buzzer beside the door it had taken her five minutes to arrive. During that time, Giuseppe continued about his work as though they didn’t exist.
“We did,” Sam replied. “Giuseppe was everything you said he’d be. We appreciate your help.”
“It’s my pleasure. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Since you’re being so helpful . . . what’s the best way to get to Poveglia?”
Maria stopped walking and turned to them. Her face was drawn. “Why would you want to go to Poveglia?”
“Research.”
“You’re welcome to use our facilities. I’m sure Giuseppe would—”
Sam said, “Thank you, but we’d like to see it for ourselves.”
“Please reconsider.”
“Why?” Remi asked.
“How much do you know about Poveglia’s history?”
“If you’re talking about the plague pits, we read—”
“Not just those. There’s much more. Let’s have a drink. I’ll tell you the rest.”
CHAPTER 54